


Three Steps Forward, Two Steps Back

by Gabi_type_creature



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Allison's au husband gets zero character development whoops, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, No Incest, Power Swap, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Swearing, and praise the lord for that, blatant mischaracterization, its an au babey, no beta we die like men, nobody gets to tell me how they would act in these situations but me, obscure literature references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-03-05 15:39:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18831610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabi_type_creature/pseuds/Gabi_type_creature
Summary: On October 1, 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth simultaneously, despite the fact that none of them showed any sign of pregnancy until labor began. Eccentric billionaire Sir Reginald Hargreeves managed to buy seven of these miraculous infants from their mothers, and trained them to become a superhero group he called "The Umbrella Academy". However, this is not where the story ends- it is merely the beginning of another.Power Swap AU for the Umbrella Academy in which all powers take three steps forward. Beware of blatant mischaracterization!





	1. March 23, 11:54 am EST ---> March 24, 9:23 am EST

**Author's Note:**

> I am not promising a consistent upload schedule, but I'm going to try and finish this story! Please let me know if you spot any grammar, spelling, or punctuation errors so I can fix them ASAP.
> 
> Thank you very much and please enjoy!

     On October 1, 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth simultaneously, despite the fact that none of them showed any sign of pregnancy until labor began. Eccentric billionaire Sir Reginald Hargreeves managed to buy seven of these miraculous infants from their mothers, and trained them to become a superhero group he called "The Umbrella Academy". However, this is not where the story ends- it is merely the beginning of another.

     We find ourselves observing a blond man with a very poor attempt at a beard standing behind the counter of a comic book store. His name tag reads “Luther H.”, and he picks at the sticker while leaning against the counter. The window display has a “15 Year Anniversary Sale” of one sort or another- he can’t be bothered to care. Luther Hargreeves, formerly ‘The Warp’ and Number Two of the Umbrella Academy, stares blankly at the display from behind before his eyes refocus on the televisions in the store across the street.

     He appears across the street in a swirl of blue light, startling several pedestrians who have also gathered in front of the electronics store. Luther shakes his head even as the breaking news appears in bold font on multiple screens in front of him- Sir Reginald Hargreeves has been found dead.

     Allison Hargreeves is coming offstage from a performance- she looks spiffy in a white button-up and black pants, with a sparkling gold vest that matches the blond highlights in her hair. “Mommy, you were great!” Says a little girl, with her own curly hair up in two fluffy pigtails. A man comes up and kisses Allison on the cheek.

     “Thank you, sweetie.” She smiles, but there’s no real emotion behind it. It’s like there’s a glass wall between her and her family, something that’s blocking her from really caring about them. “Let me just check in with the others and then we’ll go do something to celebrate, okay?” Allison gives her husband a hug before walking towards a group of five other adults in the same outfit that she’s wearing, gathered around a phone that’s playing a news report. One of them looks at her with pity, but Allison’s expression barely changes as she receives the news that her father is dead.

     Instead, she pulls a pill box out of her pocket and swallows one dry. “Great job out there everybody.” She says, even as rain clouds begin rolling in. “I might have to miss practice Tuesday though.”

     Klaus Hargreeves, formerly ‘The Barricade’, is having the time of his life learning the choreography for his new role. He’s dressed like a jewel-toned rainbow threw up on him, and the other dancers watch he lifts his partner in the air effortlessly, twirling with grace and ease. His foot bumps the radio on the floor, and it suddenly switches to local news. “ -tric billionaire Reginald Hargreeves has been found dead, leaving behind his six adopted children. The founder of the Umbr-” The radio is switched off, and Klaus looks at the instructor with a strained smile on his face.

     “Sooo… Is it ok if I leave a little early?” He says, his tone just a tad too enthusiastic to be real. “Sudden family emergency, you know how it is.”

     Five, formerly known as ‘the Blade’, never used his proper name because he never needed it. He hired himself out as an assassin at the age of sixteen- and with his perfect aim and a perfect record, who could really refuse the offer? It was better if he never chose a name because then there wouldn’t be anything to trace him back to. The perfect crime, every single time.

     He’d just finished orchestrating one such perfect crime when the notification came through on his phone- a news app that he never used, but the headline made him pause. Five quickly skimmed the article, then dialed his client on a burner. “Target taken out. I expect payment by Wednesday.” His words are cold and sharp, and he hangs up before snapping the flip phone in half and tossing it into the river below. He had a funeral to attend.

     Ben Hargreeves, formerly ‘The Whisper’, was a professional. He worked for the government, long days filled with laws being made and proposals being rejected. True, he wasn’t part of the Senate or the House, just a paper runner, but he still made a difference.

     “Senator Clarkson, sir?” He said, knocking twice on the office door before stepping through. “I have the proposal about additional library funding by Senator McQuill here.”

     “Just put it in the shredder.” The senator scoffed, tossing a beanbag up in the air. “Who needs libraries anyway? Waste of my tax dollars if you ask me- who needs a bunch of sappy old lady bookworms anyway? Ha!”

     “Actually,” Ben slides the paper onto his superior’s desk, giving a practiced smile. “ _I heard a rumor_ that you were going to sign this proposal right away and send it to Senator Romaine for approval.”

     Clarkson’s eyes went glassy for a moment before he nodded, scribbling his signature onto the proposal. “Of course I’m going to do that, why wouldn’t I? Take that to Romaine at once, she needs to see this.” Ben smiles and bows his head on the way out. “Oh! Hargreeves, sorry about your loss by the way. Completely understand if you need to take the week off m’boy.”

     “Sir?” Ben’s voice wavers, something it hasn’t done since he was fourteen.

     “Your father, he passed this morning. Don’t you watch the news?”

     Vanya Hargreeves, formerly ‘The Eulogy’, stares dully at empty music stand in front of her, playing a quick and lively piece. The music completely contrasts her dark room, with thick navy curtains that barely allow a sliver of light through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The strings on her bow suddenly snap, and she stares at a moment before tossing it aside. Vanya wanders into the living room, swiping up the tv remote and turning it on. “In other news, billionaire Sir Reginald Hargreeves has been found dead in his home in Municipal. He leaves behind-”

     The newscast fades out as she stares at the screen, slowly being replaced with anguished screams. The cacophony grows louder and louder in her head until she scrambles for the remote again, shutting it off. She stares at the blank screen for a moment longer, grabbing a half-empty bottle of whiskey from the coffee table. “Good.” She says firmly, taking a gulp. “Good riddance.”

     “You really shouldn’t be drinking right now V.” Says a voice from behind her, and Vanya whips around, her messy bun falling apart even more.

     “It’s five o'clock somewhere.” She grins, pointing the bottle in Diego’s direction. “Besides, I deserve to celebrate this.”

     He crosses his arms, drifting closer. “Still, you could try to show some respect. Our father just died.”

     “Oh, would you shut up, Diego? He doesn’t deserve respect.” Vanya snaps, taking another swig. “You should’ve left when I did, but no, just had to keep being Number One!” She slumps down onto the couch and continues drinking, grabbing her phone to book plane tickets. The screams are still there, but seem dampened in a way.

     “Sorry.” She finally says, breaking the silence between them. “I- I didn’t mean to bring that up.” Diego floats down and sits next to her on the couch, the cushion barely shifting.

     “It’s fine. But do you think we can try to get there early?” He sticks the tip of his tongue out, thinking. “I have a feeling Dad wants to talk to us, and the sooner we get there the sooner we can leave.”

     “No promises.” Vanya still sets an alarm to wake up on time, and Diego’s frown softens if only just a bit.

     In one day, the lives of the seven Hargreeves have flipped on their heads. And they were about to get much, much worse.

____________________

     Allison hums quietly as she walks up to the front gate, a slight breeze blowing through her hair. She’d never been very fond of her childhood home, but the sight still brought back old memories of her siblings… When they had the time for her. She popped a pill, swallowing it dry.

     “Alleycat!” Exclaimed a voice from behind her, causing her to jump. Klaus came bounding down the sidewalk in what could be described as an outfit only in the sense that it was clothes being worn together. He stumbled to a halt and gave a lopsided grin, one hand on the gate. “Haven’t seen you since your wedding- nice job on the hubby, by the way.”

     “...Thanks Klaus,” She says slowly, observing her brother. He’s tapping a pattern onto the steel bars- he’d always been full of too much energy and strength for his lanky frame. “I would’ve asked him to come with, but Gracie had her recital.”

     “Ooo, another dancer in the family?” He grins, rocking back on his heels. “You should have her come over some time- I know it’s a bit of a drive, but I’d love to meet the little one. Maybe teach her a few moves?”

     Allison snorts. “I think the dancing you do is a bit too much for a seven-year-old- no offense.”

     He shrugs and laughs it off before opening the gate. “Shall we?” The two link arms, and for a moment it’s like they’re Numbers Six and Seven again. Klaus knocks on the door, and after a moment it creaks open.

     “Master Klaus, Miss Allison.” Pogo’s tone is somber, but there’s still warmth in his voice. His fur is mostly grey now, Allison notes, and the hand not on the door is clutching a cane. “I’m glad you both managed to come.”

     “It’s nice to see you too Pogo.” She crouches down and quickly wraps an arm around him. Klaus wanders into the house, looking up at the vaulted ceilings and twirling in place, his technicolor trench coat spreading itself around him. “Where’s everyone else?” She asks, rising and walking through to the hall.

     “Master Ben’s flight was a bit delayed, but he should be arriving within the hour.” The door shuts, and Pogo’s voice comes slowly closer, accompanied by the slow tapping of his cane. “Your other siblings are… somewhere about the house, but Miss Grace is in the kitchen if you wish to visit with her.” 

     Klaus flopped down onto the couch, stretching out so his legs hung over the armrest. “I’ll just wait for Benny boy here. Have fun!”

     A crash came from upstairs, and the two Hargreeves siblings glanced at each other. “Yeah, definitely staying here.” Klaus said, laying an arm over his eyes. Allison sighed but began to climb the staircase.

     Time to remeet the family. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Fixed a few grammar errors on 5/24/19


	2. March 24, 9:23 am EST ---> March 24, 10:05 am EST

     Vanya staggered back from where she’d bumped into the nightstand in Reginald’s bedroom. “Nice going Diego.” She whispered, crouching down and pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her hands to pick up the shards of what once was a vase.

     “How was that my fault?” He laughed, floating over her. “I can’t even touch anything right now- this one’s all on you V.”

     “Maybe if you weren’t distracting me, I would’ve been-” She winced as the sound of multiple spirits suddenly became much louder. “Hhhh, probably a bad idea to drink on the flight.”

     “No shit.” Said a cold, curt voice, and Vanya managed to bang her head on the same nightstand as she turned. “Just makes you more prone to altitude sickness, and dulled senses are always useless at a crime scene.”

     “Five?” She blinked and shook her head, standing up. “We haven’t seen you in ages, I- wow, that’s a lot of angry spirits- I just figured you just kicked the bucket without saying goodbye.”

     He gestured to himself with a gloved hand before pulling several folded papers from his suit jacket. “Surprise, that’s not the case. Now, to business. I know one of my associates was in town at the time of death, but the murder doesn’t have her style to it.”

     “Wait, wait you think someone had Dad killed?” Vanya scratched at her wrist, a nervous habit since they’d been tattooed. “I thought the- the thing said it was a heart attack or something?”

     “That’s what the coronary report claims happened, yes.” Five flipped through a few sheets before passing one to her. “But there are several poisons and drugs that can cause heart defects, especially when taken in lethal doses.”

     Vanya quickly skimmed through the sheet, and Diego peeked over her shoulder. “Whoever did it must’ve done it for personal reasons.” He hummed.

     “What makes you say that?” She glanced up, ignoring the look Five gave her.

     “Look over here.” He pointed to a line about what the victim had been wearing at the time of death. “There’s nothing about the monocle, and he always wore that stupid thing.”

     “Would you look at that.” Vanya’s eyes lit up. “We’ve got a proper mystery on our hands!”

     “Who are you talking to?” Five snapped, stepping far too close to Vanya and grabbing a corner of the paper. “What’s the mystery?”

     “The fact that Dad’s monocle is missing from the report.” She replied as she stepped farther back, as if to avoid touching someone he could not see. “Also, next time you go missing for fifteen years could you try to kill fewer people?”

     “Shush.” Five snatched the report back, eyes darting across the page. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he frowned. “I will admit, that is odd. Must have been personal for them.”

     “Mystery time!” Vanya clapped her hands together and narrowly avoiding the knife that had been sent her way. “I’ll be Miss Marple because hell yeah, old lady detective, and you… you can be Scooby Doo.” Her head was shoved forward and she stumbled a bit before sticking her tongue out. “You can touch stuff today, liar!”

     Five groaned, looking up at the ceiling. “Do you ever not talk? Has living alone for who knows how long caused you to go off the deep end or something?”

     “In full honesty? Yes to both.” She managed to maneuver her way around Five and gave a little wave. “I’m going to visit Mom, it’s way too loud in here.” Vanya looked back and winced. “Oh, be careful, someone broke a vase in here.”

     He pinched the bridge of his nose. God, this whole mess was reminding him of why he’d left in the first place.

____________________

     “Come on, come on, it has to be here somewhere,” Luther muttered, rattling the locked desk drawers. Dad was always writing in here, and the one time he’d gotten a peek, it was a red leather notebook- full of notes about their powers. If he could just find it, figure out what he’d been doing wrong for so many years, he could stop being a failure. He could be someone Dad was proud of. 

     It was probably wrong to steal from someone just a day past dead, but it wasn’t like the man was around to tell him about his disappointment.

     “Luther?” Came a hesitant voice, and he snapped to attention, banging his head on the underside of the desk.

     “Shit, yeah, just-” He opened up a portal and was suddenly sitting on the carpet of the study, legs crossed underneath him. “- give me a second.” Luther looked up and smiled slightly, getting to his feet. “Allison, hi.”

     “Hello Luther.” She gave him a quick hug before stepping back. “Mind if I ask what you were doing under our father’s desk?”

     He had the decency to look guilty as he scratched the umbrella tattoo on his wrist. “Just, you know, looking. We were never allowed in here, so I was wondering what was so special about this room.”

     “And did you find anything?” Allison smiles, but it’s more a formality than anything.

     “Nope.” He kicked at the carpet, producing a small puff of dust that filtered through the sunlight. “Just a dusty, ugly room with a dusty, ugly carpet. Makes you wonder why he spent so many hours writing in that notebook.”

     “Maybe it was notes about all of your powers?” She suggested, walking over to the desk and running her fingers along the wood. “Or an autobiography about raising superheroes.”

     “Yeah, probably the next New York Times bestseller, ‘How To Profit Off Of Your Superpowered Children: A Billionaire’s Guide’.” He laughed without any real humor, and jerked a thumb towards the door. “Let’s go see Mom or something, this room is just depressing.”

     “In a minute.” Allison hummed, still staring at the desk. She waited until she heard his footsteps fade, then waited a moment longer. “... I wish you’d picked someone else,” She said. “One of the other kids who could’ve been useful to you. Maybe if I’d grown up normally… I could actually care that you’re gone.”

     There’s no response, because of course there isn’t. Allison looked out the study window, at the rainclouds that were beginning to form, and smoothed out her blouse before taking a deep breath and leaving the room.

     The door clicked shut behind her, despite the fact that she didn’t touch it.

____________________

    Ben walked into the house for the first time in nearly a decade with a duffle bag in his hand and air in his lungs, and was immediately robbed of both as he was tackled by a bulldozer in multicolored rags. “Benny, so good to see you!” Klaus said, twirling his brother close before holding him up by his arms like a cat. “You look so professional!”

     “I missed you too Klaus.” He wheezed, trying to squirm out of the vice grip. “Please... put me down now.” Klaus obliges but throws an arm around Ben’s shoulders, blocking off any chance of escape.

     “Oh, you missed me? The how come you never call? Or text? Or even respond to my emails?” Ben looks down, suddenly becoming very interested in his shoes. “Just one, one singular Facebook post to let me know that my favorite big brother is still alive?”

     “We’re the same age.” He muttered before clearing his throat. “Senate work takes up a lot of time and energy. I haven’t exactly had much time to devote attention to my personal life.” It wasn’t a lie, necessarily, but he hadn’t exactly made an effort to keep in contact with his siblings either.

     Klaus raised an eyebrow, but the answer seemed to satisfy him for now. “You have to stop being such a workaholic. I mean, nine whole years without taking a personal day? That has to be exhausting!” He let go of Ben and kept rambling. “Then again, I’ve never been much for actual work. Hey, everyone else is with Mom in the kitchen, wanna go with me?”

     He blinked, trying to parse what was being said before picking up his duffel. “Yeah, just give me a second to get this to my room.”

     “Oh, don’t worry, I got this.” Klaus snatched the bag, and before Ben could stop him threw it up to the second floor. It landed- miraculously- just outside of the door to his old room, and there was a loud snap. Ben glared at Klaus, who waved it off. “It's probably fiiiine. Now come on, I spent ages waiting for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Can you believe this is the first work I haven't abandoned immediately or gotten discouraged about my writing with? Please leave a comment if anything needs to be cleared up!


	3. March 24, 10:15 am EST ---> March 24, 11:04 am EST

   “So…” Luther tapped a slow rhythm on his mug. “Where are we holding the service?” Awkward silence filled the room, until Vanya lifted her head from the table.

   “Outside? It’s probably better than scattering ash all over the carpet.” Ben snorted quietly. “And it’d be rude to make Mom clean up after Dad when he’s gone.”

   “Vanya, don’t be so disrespectful.” Allison said softly. “It’s bad luck to speak poorly of the dead.”

   “It’s bad luck to cross a black cat’s path too, but Ms. Trinklebury and Nockman are basically my children.” She folded her arms and put her head back down. “Diego said Dad’s favorite place was by the tree in the courtyard though.”

   “We’ll do it there then.” Five hopped off the counter where he’d been sitting and tapped the side of his mug with a knife. “But on more important topics- I think someone murdered Dad.” Ben choked on his tea, and Luther dropped his mug, swearing as the contents spilled into his lap.

   “Careful, Luther dear.” Grace said brightly, turning from the sink to grab a dishtowel. “It’s a bit hot.”

   “Hello, yes, exsqueeze me?” Klaus sat up and tucked his hands under his chin, suddenly invested in the conversation. “Care to repeat that, Fivey?”

   “I believe, based on gathered evidence, that someone paid to have him assassinated.” He said, enunciating each word clearly as if he were speaking to a group of preschoolers. “Look, we all know he was a bastard, but whoever did this still needs to be found.”

   “What, exactly, is your proof?” Ben asked, hiding a smirk that quickly vanished when he somehow pulled an inch-thick manila folder from his suit jacket.

   “To start off, we know for a fact that Sir Reginald Hargreeves had more enemies than friends, and many of them are rich and ruthless enough to kill him. We have plenty of suspects and motives, it’s just a matter of narrowing it down.” Klaus flopped back in his chair and groaned as Five opened the file and began sorting through the papers. “Now, it makes the most sense to-”

   “Why don’t we just ask him what happened?” Everyone turned to Allison and she shrugged, gazing into her own mug. “I mean- Vanya is right here.”

   “But do I have to?” She propped her head up on one hand and grimaced. “I mean, Five’s paperwork idea sounds a hell of a lot more fun if I’m being-” Vanya went quiet then waved someone away. “I’m not just saying that because I’m hungover, shut up.”

   “... Who are you talking to?” Luther snapped, looking very grumpy in his freshly coffee-stained jeans and button up.

   She blinked at him for a second, then smacked her forehead. “Right, right, you guys can’t see him, hang on.” Vanya closed her eyes and a soft blue light enveloped her hands. The air above her right shoulder wavered with the same blue light, an outline becoming clearer and clearer until…

   Diego Hargreeves, formerly Number One, formerly ‘The Kraken’,  _ formerly alive _ , was standing with his arms crossed in the middle of the kitchen. He was floating about two feet above the tile floor, but he was there, and he looked exactly the same as he did seven years ago. “Hey everyone.” He said, waving a bit. “What a reunion, huh?” It went deathly quiet, five of the seven siblings staring at the ghost of their brother for what felt like an eternity.

   “What the fuck?!” Ben shouted, and the room dissolved into chaos.

____________________

   Twenty-five minutes, several explanations, and a fresh round of hot drinks later, Klaus raised his hand. “So wait, if you can just-” He gestured toward the blue-tinted figure sitting three inches above the table, and made a wooshy noise. “Summon our dearly departed leader whenever, what’s the problem with chatting with Dad?”

   Vanya sighed. “First of all, I don’t summon him, he sticks around because of some ‘moral obligation’ or something.”

   “She means I keep an eye on her because nobody else thought to check up on the sibling who struggles with alcoholism.” Diego not-so-helpfully supplied.

   “Shush. The problem is that Dad’s passed on to the other side.” She continued, tracing a finger around the rim of her mug. “If I had a personal item, something that meant a lot to him, I could try and use it to drag him back? I’m still hungover from the flight, so it’s going to be touch and go no matter what. Also,” Vanya put a finger in the air to emphasize her point. “I don’t want to.”

   “It’s the best option we have.” Diego stood, his legs passing through the table. “What would be something Dad valued?”

   Ben took a sip of his tea as he mulled it over. “What about his monocle? I think he slept with that stupid thing on.”

   “No dice.” Five said, bringing out his folder again. “It’s not mentioned anywhere in the coronary report, meaning it was most likely stolen by the killer.” Luther frowned.

   “Dad wasn’t killed, he died of a heart attack.”

   Klaus reached across the table and tapped Luther’s nose, winking. “That’s just what the government wants you to think, Lulu.”

   “I- what? What hell does that have to do with-” He shook his head. “Nevermind. Is there anything else that could work?”

   “... The notebook?” Allison suggested. “He spent so much time writing in it, it has to have some sort of connection.”

   “That could do it.” Vanya said, stretching. “And if it doesn’t work, which it probably won’t by the way, at least we can still find out what’s inside.” 

   “Personally, I’d love to know what he was writing.” Klaus added, balancing his mug on his knee. “Have any idea where it is?”

   Ben shrugged. “Probably hidden in the study? Or somewhere in his bedroom.”

   Diego clapped his hands together. “That settles it then. We do the memorial in the courtyard, find Dad’s notebook, get V to do her thing, and figure out what to do with whatever he says.”

   “Uh, does V get a say in whether or not she does her thing?” She crossed her arms.

   “No, because I don’t want to go through what I’m sure will just be Cayden Hargreeves and the Mysterious Case of the Misfiled Paperwork.” A blade passed harmlessly through Diego’s head and he laughed. “Love you too Five!”

   “Whoops, that’s the end of visitation hours.” Vanya waved her right hand, and in an instant both the blue light and Diego faded from everyone else’s vision. He huffed and floated back to her side.

   “Rude.”

_____________________

   It had started to rain, and Luther regretted not bringing an umbrella- although, this morning’s report had promised clear skies throughout the day so it was really all the weatherman’s fault.

   Pogo walked slowly forward to the gnarled oak in the center of the courtyard, and Luther trailed behind carrying the urn. It’s so small in comparison to the massive, glaring scars the man inside left on him, on all of them. They stop, and he turned and properly looked at his siblings for the first time in a long time.

   Allison held a navy blue umbrella for both herself and Grace, identical vaguely sad expressions on their faces. If he hadn’t know that she’d grown up with the rest of them, Luther could’ve sworn his sister was a robot, made as another test for them. She noticed him looking at her, and for a moment the expression turned into something a little more lifelike- but just for a moment.

   Klaus was dressed more like he was at a carnival than a funeral- like he was the main act in this whole parade of clowns, freaks, and fools. He dramatically dabbed at his face with a black handkerchief, but the effect was ruined by the sparkly purple umbrella in his hand.

   Five stood a good six feet away from the others under a black umbrella, the only one dressed properly for the occasion. His expression is suitably somber and he’s standing straight and tall, but there’s an air of unease, like he’ll disappear again as soon as the event is over.

   Vanya’s hunched shoulders and oversized sweater made her look even smaller, and Luther was painfully reminded of the nights when her room was empty, of the mornings where she would come down to breakfast with wide, darting eyes. She held the dark green umbrella far higher than necessary, and he got the feeling she was trying to shelter Diego from the rain too.

   God, Diego. Seeing his brother again had been the worst thing to try and wrap his head around. When they had been kids, Luther had so desperately wanted to be the leader, to be the one his siblings looked up to and respected- but when he moved out and finally saw what Reginald had done to them, he just pitied Diego. And then the day he died… focus, different funeral.

   Ben stood between Klaus and Vanya, the clear plastic umbrella warping his face as he held it close. He had always shielded himself from the others, but now the walls he’d put up were made of cold steel and twisted words. Ben at least had the decency to put on a tie, but it’s loose, a facade like the rest of him.

   Luther looked at them, and back at himself in his coffee-stained clothes, and realized that he had nothing in common with these people- other than the fact that they were adopted by the man who’s remains he now held. He barely knew anything about his own siblings.

   Pogo began his eulogy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know the story is going kinda slowly. Sorry, but also not. :)  
> If you have any questions, comments, or if you notice mistakes I missed please leave a comment! Thank you so much and I'll see you guys when the next chapter is done!


	4. March 24, 11:05 am EST ---> March 24, 4:03 pm EST

   “In every sense of the phrase,” Pogo said solemnly, leaning heavily on his cane. “Sir Reginald Hargreeves made me what I am today. I will be forever in his debt for that alone. He was my creator, my master, and my friend, and I shall miss him a great deal.” The aged ape took a deep breath before continuing. “He leaves behind a rather complicated legacy-”

   “Complicated my ass.” Ben snapped out of nowhere, stepping forward. “He bought a bunch of infants and turned them into child soldiers.”

   “Ben, stop it,” Allison said softly, as the rain began to fall faster. “At least let Pogo finish.”

   “I’m not Ben, I’m Number Three, remember?” He laughs bitterly. “The man couldn’t even be bothered to give us names!”

   “Could you not?” Five tapped his foot impatiently. “Save it for after.”

   “You don’t get to talk either Cayden. You escaped as soon as you could, and then when you realized you couldn’t handle the world without missions, you made up your own!”

   “Stop it, this isn’t the time,” Allison said again, but she was ignored.

   “Don’t call me that.” He grit his teeth, knuckles white on the handle of his umbrella. “You have no right to judge my actions.”

   “Fight, fight, fight.” Klaus began chanting under his breath, Vanya joining him after a moment.

   “I have every right!” Ben swung his arm out in a wide arc, stalking closer. “When you left he was even harder on the rest of us, but you never thought about that! Did you ever consider, just once that maybe, just maybe we needed you around? Of course not, because you were so up your own-”

   A knife flew by mere millimeters from Ben’s cheek, shredding through his umbrella and slashing his ear. “For once in your life.” Five seethed. “Shut. Your. Mouth.” Ben put a hand up to his ear and stared at the blood in shock. A dangerous glint appeared in his eyes and he tossed the umbrella aside, immediately getting soaked in what had become a torrential downpour and shouting out:

   “ _ I HEARD A RUMOR  _ THAT Y-”

   Lightning struck the tree in the center of the courtyard and it exploded outward, chunks of burned wood and splintered branches flying out in every direction. Luther grabbed Pogo and teleported out of the way, Klaus yelped and attempted to hide behind Vanya, and Allison stepped even closer to Grace, who blinked and smiled before turning to her once it was quiet.

   “Is something wrong, Allison?” She asked, hands folded perfectly in front of her. “I could make cookies if you like.”

   Allison’s hands were shaking slightly as she took another pill, swallowing it dry. “That… that would be great, mom. Thank you.” She said after a moment, guiding the android toward the house.

   Vanya turned around and looked at Klaus, who was crouching with his arms over his head. “You know I’m probably not the best shield, Mr. Barricade.” She said, the ghost of a smile appearing on her face.

   “Sue me, Van, you know these legs are the only things that pay my bills.” He replied, straightening up and brushing himself off. “Are you okay though?”

   “Fine, thanks.” She gazed around the messy courtyard. “Diego says we should do this again at the next family reunion.”

   “Encourage drama, watch a tree explode, or see each other in person?”

   Vanya shrugged. “Why not all three?” Klaus laughed and offered his arm, which she looped her own through.

   “Sounds like a plan.” The tallest and smallest members of the Umbrella Academy wandered back into the house, chattering and giggling quietly to themselves.

   Luther groaned as he sat up and saw the urn lying on its side by the tree, top off and a small pile of the ash being turned into mud by the rain. His ears were ringing something awful, but other than that they were both unharmed. “Thank you, Master Luther.” Pogo stood with a great deal of difficulty and put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “We should get inside.”

   “What- what about Dad?” He said, wincing as he turned. Pogo looked down at the half-scattered remains for a short moment, picked up the urn, and quietly poured the rest of the ash on the cobblestone.

   “I see no point in delaying the end of the ceremony.” He shook his head and helped Luther to his feet. “And I doubt a second attempt would end any better than this.”

   This left just Ben and Five, still frozen glaring at each other as the rain began to ease up. Finally, Ben broke their stasis, brushing the splinters off of his soaked shirt. “I’m going to dry off.” He muttered, picking up his ruined umbrella and storming inside. Five looked around the empty courtyard, walked over to the pile of ash, and in a sudden burst of pettiness kicked it.

   Then he picked up the knife he’d thrown and left.

____________________

   “So!” Klaus said, clapping his hands together once they entered the living room. “Where are we gonna start looking for Reggie’s secret diary?”

   “We aren’t.” Vanya continued toward the front door and grabbed her bag. “You can look for the journal if you want. I’m going to grab lunch, then back to the motel and taking a nap.”

   “Aw, what?” His grin almost instantly flipped into a frown. “I thought we were going to find out what happened?”

   She shrugged. “I made it pretty clear that- shut up.” Vanya swatted at the air before continuing. “- pretty clear that I don’t want to bring him back, for any amount of time. Five probably made the whole ‘murdered’ thing up based on tiny details, the monocle just got lost or something.”

   Klaus nods, hands folded under his chin. “I see what you’re saying, but… on the off chance he wasn’t wrong, what then?”

   “Then someone murdered Dad and I still don’t care.” She pulled the strap over her shoulder. “Solving the mystery would be fun and all, but I don’t want to see his face ever again.”

   A silence, then Klaus swooped around her, opening the door. “Fair enough, I don’t want to see the bastard either. Where to, Lady Eulogy?”

   “You know, I’m not sure. What would you recommend?”

____________________

   “Allison, wake up.” Came a tired voice, and she jumped. Ben was standing by her side in different clothes, a band-aid over the cut in his ear. The room was otherwise empty, though the running dishwasher provided a steady hum. There was a plate piled with snickerdoodles next to the fridge, and Allison remembered falling asleep on the kitchen table shortly after she and Grace had finished making them. “We need to talk.”

   “Oh… sure.” She straightened herself, nodding to the seat next to her. “What do we need to talk about?” He sat down and struggled for a moment to actually say the words.

   “I’m sorry.”

   Allison blinked once, twice, then nodded slowly. “Alright. For what?”

   “The whole mess out there.” He waved over to the window, where the remains of the ruined tree were just barely visible. “I overreacted, and said a lot of things I shouldn’t have.”

   She pat his shoulder. “I forgive you, but shouldn’t you be apologizing to Five? Or Pogo, for interrupting him.”

   “Pogo already accepted. Don’t want to talk to Ca- Five. Probably won’t be able to find him anyway.” Ben lay his head on the table. 

   “He did always have a habit of disappearing…” Allison hesitated before asking gently. What were you going to make him do?”

   He sighed. “I… I was going to try and make him care about the rest of us.”

   “Well, Five has his own way of showing he cares. Besides, if he didn’t care he wouldn’t have been here, right?”

   “I guess.” Ben looked up at his sister and offered a half-smile. “How are you so good at knowing what to say?”

   “Just intuition I suppose.” She smiled back before standing and grabbing the plate of cookies from the counter. “Now, how about we catch up? I haven’t seen you in ages.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I do have a bit of bad news: finals are next week for me, and I don't have a home computer. So I may be absent for a bit while I get used to writing on my phone. Hopefully, I'll post a chapter next week, but no promises.  
> Please let me know if there are any mistakes or inconsistencies, and have a wonderful day!


	5. Chapter 5: March 24, 5:32 pm EST ---> March 25, 8:45 am EST

   “Come on, where could that stupid thing be?” Luther sighed as he looked around the mess he’d made of Reginald’s study. It had been somewhat cathartic to tear the place apart, but now he was just frustrated with the lack of results. He stood up brushing dust from his pants- he’d gone back to his apartment and gotten a clean pair, thank goodness- and began to walk out when he noticed something.

   Part of the carpet lay oddly- as if a section of the floor was raised. Pulling up the rug revealed that part of the flooring had been cut out and was slightly tilted, showing an empty space underneath. Luther took a deep breath and shoved the cover aside. The space below the floor was a three-foot empty square that was about ten inches deep- and in the middle of this secret space was a small ornate box. Luther pulled it out and opened it.

   There was the red leather notebook, along with several other papers. He dumped them out onto the desk, grabbing the notebook and flipping through it. He’d been exactly right about what it contained- notes on their powers. Flipping through, he saw paragraphs upon paragraphs on Diego, Vanya, Five- here he was.

   ‘Number Two has failed again. His need for validation clouds his judgement, and he insists on following protocol even when improvisation is clearly needed. His powers have reached a stagnation point, both with his distance jumps and his inability to figure out his secondary traveling power. Loyal to a fault despite his failings, may be useful in the future if he can learn to use his brain.’

   Luther frowned and flipped to the next page. ‘Another failure. I am positive that the disappointment will continue unless Number Two applies himself more.’ Flip to the next page. ‘Number Two is frustrated with his lack of progress, as am I. Unsatisfactory.’ The next page. ‘No notable improvement.’ Next page. ‘Terrible results.’ Next. ‘Worthless.’ Next, next, next. ‘Failure, mistakes, failed, no progress, lack of effort-’ 

   Luther slammed the book shut and let out a heavy sigh as he sat on the floor, processing what he’d just read. Had- had Reginald really been that disappointed in him, to write those things over and over again? He stood up and began to clean up a bit, making sure to replace the box and the section of flooring before leaving. Vanya had probably left ages ago, so he’d just take the notebook home until tomorrow… and possibly take a peek at what had been written about his siblings.

   After all, he had been wanting to get to know them again… maybe this could be the first step. Maybe he would be able to fix whatever was wrong with him and the others, knowing how Dad had broken them in the first place.

____________________

   Ben paced the halls of his childhood home, unable to sleep. He still felt slightly bad about ruining the ceremony- not that Reginald had deserved anything better. But he could have definitely been a bit kinder to the others, at least let Pogo finish saying his piece before speaking his mind, maybe not started an argument with Five. Actually no, he stood by that last decision. The little prick had just grown into an even bigger prick after fifteen years of doing whatever the hell he’d run off to do. Nevermind that he’d also left as soon as he’d had a plan- Ben was clearly the victim in this situation.

   He paused by Grace’s charging station, sitting next to her on the couch. The space was covered wall-to-wall with art, portraits of women smiling mysteriously and sunny landscapes. She was sitting with an absent smile decorating her face, hands folded one over the other in her lap. A soft blue light flickered occasionally behind her eyes and from the charging port, a glaring reminder that Grace was not human.

   Ben suddenly recalled a moment from almost 20 years ago, long before any of them had names. He’d tried to rumor her into letting him skip out on the English lesson for the day- he had already finished the book they were reading and wanted to stay in the library. Grace paused for a split second before shaking her head. “Your father expects everyone to do their work, Three.” She’d said brightly, guiding him out of the room. “You can come back after you’re all done.”

   It was the first time Ben hadn’t been able to rumor his way into what he wanted and it taught him a valuable lesson: relying on his powers to let him skate by wasn’t enough. He figured out how to be more subtle after that, learning what words and phrases to use to bring people to his side of thinking, how to twist perception until he got it down to a science. He blinked back into the present and put a hand over Grace’s. “Thanks, Mom.” He said softly.

   Ben stood to leave but noticed something glinting in between her fingers. Gently prying them apart, he managed to pull the object out, eyes widening in surprise as it twisted on the end of the chain.

   Grace had been holding the monocle. 

____________________

   Five came back to the house at 8 the next morning, letting himself in through the front door- which really should have had a better lock. Someone with malicious intent and a couple of hairpins could just waltz on in, seriously. He’d have to get that taken care of once they figured out what to do with the will- if Reginald had even written one. No matter what, he’d have to stay for a couple more days, which wasn’t ideal. He didn’t want to spend a second longer than necessary here.

   Not that it was entirely necessary to be here either.

   He’d been sitting on the couch in the family room- wasn’t that a joke- cleaning his best butterfly knife when Ben had wandered in. Five froze like a deer in headlights, and when the other noticed who was there he did the same. A heavy silence fell over the two of them.

   “... Morning Five. How’d you get in?”

   “Front door.”

   “Makes sense.” Another long silence, one that seemed to stretch on for hours. “Listen, I-”

   “I don’t suppose you-” Five shook his head. “You first.”

   Ben sat down in the chair across from him, clutching a mug of tea. “I wanted to say…  I’m sorry for yesterday. I know you aren’t exactly fond of the name Grace gave you, and I shouldn’t have goaded you into an argument.”

   “You can say that again.” Five said coldly, turning back to focus on his knife.

   Ben waited for a moment. “What, that’s it?”

   “Oh, did you find the notebook so we can summon Dad?”

   “... No, I spent my time chatting with Allison. Y’know, catching up on the time we’d missed.” He replied, standing and making his way out of the room. Ben paused at the door before snapping, “It was nice. Maybe you should try it sometime, pull that stick out of your ass while you’re at it.” and leaving.

   Five looked up, glaring for a moment before shaking his head. Jesus, what was his problem?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally a new day, and these three don't know how to mcfuckin communicate. Whoops!  
> If you have any questions, corrections, or comments I'd love to hear them! Hopefully I'll have the next chapter out soon!


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